


uniting and reuniting

by anightingale



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Reunited and It Feels So Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 23:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17011092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anightingale/pseuds/anightingale
Summary: AKA, Bastila doesn’t expect to meet Revan in a place like this, but the Force has a great sense of humour.





	uniting and reuniting

**Author's Note:**

> _"Vulkars — to me! Kill this woman! Kill the swoop rider! Kill them all!"_
> 
> Meanwhile Revan is just there like oh my god...

Bastila let out a sigh of relief as her fingers grasped the hilt of her lightsaber. She pulled it off Brejik’s belt, drawing it to her and closing her eyes as she appreciated the sense of security it gave her. With her weapon back in her hands, the visual representation of a Jedi’s power, she could make damned sure that she wouldn’t be forced and humiliated into submitting to anyone on this wretched planet again.

“Well, maybe those bloody Vulkars will think twice next time before trying to keep a Jedi prisoner,” Bastila grumbled, standing and ripping off the neural disruptor collar that had been clamped around her neck, her lips curling in disgust as she watched it clatter to the ground.

The woman who had joined her in the fight against Brejik and his Black Vulkars was off to one side, knelt down, as she quickly searched the corpses for anything of value or interest. Bastila watched for a few seconds in morbid fascination, her efficiency at this making her understand it was something this woman did often, before she remembered that the only reason she’d even been in that fight at all was because she’d been tricked.

“As for you,” Bastila began slowly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion at the thought, “if you think you can collect me as a prize…”

At that, the woman paused in her searching and stood, turning to face her and crossing her arms. She appeared utterly composed in her movements, with the only evidence that she’d just been in a fight flyaway hairs that had escaped her long, dark braid, framing her face and giving her a windswept look. She reached up and brushed one of these hairs out of her face, so Bastila could see her properly, just as she was wondering why she looked strangely familiar. 

A jolt of panic shot through her entire body, as she recognised the former Dark Lord standing before her—here, of all places…  _It can’t be,_ she thought, the idea of coming face to face with her again having been the last possible thing she could have expected.

Bastila had put a lot of thought into the battle of the Endar Spire, during her days as a captive. She’d ruminated much on what she could have done to stop the invasion, to defeat the Sith, but she’d been even more consumed with questions of what had happened to the amnesiac Revan and whether it was best—or even likely—that she could be dead.

In her shock, she felt like her eyes were completely bugging out of her face. “I… I don’t believe this!”

The woman before her tilted her head, blue eyes looking her up and down casually while memories flashed in Bastila’s mind’s eye—memories of the Dark Lord of the Sith coolly twirling her dual lightsabers, threat clear in her calculated movements; her piercing gaze that Bastila could feel even beneath the faceless mask Revan wore; the mocking taunts that Bastila tried to calm herself against even as her heart raced, knowing but accepting that most of the people she’d travelled with would not make it out of that room alive.

And later, of the explosion that had rocked the entire bridge, tearing a hole in the side of Darth Revan’s flagship with searing fire and instantly killing everyone around her… the moment Bastila had crawled over to Revan’s body, and realised her enemy lived, making that split second decision to heal her with the Force as best as she could…

“You’re…” Bastila breathed, stuttering, but quickly recovered her composure. “You’re one of the soldiers with the Republic fleet, aren’t you?”

The woman— _Darth Revan—_ raised an eyebrow as she looked at her, perhaps in surprise but even this had Bastila much more on edge than she would have liked. “Yes… I’m sure of it. How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?”

“My name is Nataya L’hnnar,” the ex-Dark Lord of the Sith greeted her formally, uncrossing her arms, and Bastila swallowed at the sound of her voice. “I’m here to save you,” she said, matter-of-factly, a slight smile on her face.

“‘ _Save me’?_ ” Bastila repeated incredulously. The Force had a great sense of humour. “Is  _that_  what you were trying to accomplish by riding in that swoop race?”

Revan— _Nataya, her name is Nataya—_ sighed, looking disappointed as her hands twitched by her side at the hilts of her vibroblades.

“As far as rescues go, this is a pretty poor example. In case you hadn’t noticed, I managed to free  _myself_ from that neural restraint collar withoutyour help. In fact, it’s more accurate to say that I saved you!” And it was, but she was glad Nataya didn’t know the extent of it.

Nataya cast a glance behind Bastila, seeming distracted, and Bastila just couldn’t hold it in. “Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I hadn’t stepped into that fight. You’re lucky I was here to get you out of this mess!”

Nataya’s focus zeroed back in on her, her eyes narrowing, bristling at the implications in Bastila’s words. “I think you’ve got things confused. You were a helpless prisoner until I came along.”

Bastila knew she was acting childish, but she couldn’t help herself. “I may have been a prisoner, but a Jedi is never helpless. Maybe you’ve heard of a little thing called the Force?”

Nataya rolled her eyes, crossing her arms again, her gaze flitting again to something behind Bastila’s back, to her continued annoyance. “I suppose I shouldn’t be t—“

Nataya interrupted her, firmly, “Look, we really don’t have time for this. Carth is waiting for us.”

That caught Bastila’s attention. “Carth? Carth Onasi? He’s alive?” Nataya nodded once. “Finally, some good news…”

“Yeah, it’s  _really_  good news,” Nataya snarked back at her. “And that good news is going to kill me if I don’t get you back to the surface in one piece, so, let’s go,” she said, hands up and moving to usher Bastila in the direction of the swoop venue’s exit. Bastila reached down and grabbed the rest of her belongings that Brejik had kept close to him, and clutched them to her chest.

“I suppose if he sent you here to save me then it’s possible I misjudged you,” Bastila murmured, turning to face the Lower City. “Forgive me… I may be a Jedi, but I still tend to act a bit rashly sometimes.”

Nataya shook her head beside her. “It’s fine. I just need to get you out of here before any Sith show up.”

Bastila heartily agreed with that, and allowed herself to be shepherded out the door and into the dank, poorly maintained Lower City. She could feel the tension in Nataya beside her, more so than she had been able to feel the emotions of any of the Vulkars, and as she wondered at the strangeness of that Nataya cursed and pushed Bastila down an alley. Bastila opened her mouth to protest, but with a single look she stayed quiet.

Nataya turned to face the exit, her right hand resting on the sword at her left hip. “There’s a small group at the other end of the hall. Could be Vulkars, could be someone else, but it’s better to keep you hidden just in case.”

“Anyway, you should change while we wait. Your clothes,“ she said, looking back at her briefly, and Bastila glanced down at the revealing outfit they’d put her in with a grimace, “won’t look normal once we reach the Upper City. And we’re trying to keep a low profile.”

Bastila unfolded her robes automatically, and quickly pulled them on over her clothes as best as she could. She knew Nataya was right, but it didn’t make it any less strange, as she dressed herself while Darth Revan stood guard.

The deadly sound of a sword being unsheathed filled the air, making Bastila snap her head up. She couldn’t hear anyone, even as she reached out with the Force, just the increasing  _thump, thump, thump_  of Nataya’s heartbeat.

“We’re going to run,” Nataya decided, whispering back to her. “Don’t stop, not until we’re in the elevator. Anyone on the streets right now could be backup to try and get you back for the Vulkars, or honestly any of these other gangs.” Her expression twisted. “Worse, they could be Sith.”

Bastila pressed her lips together, not liking the thought either, as she fastened the last piece of her robes, and clutched her lightsaber again for a moment. “Alright. I’m ready.”

They took off without another word.


End file.
